


Scars Are More Than An Imperfection

by Believe_in_the_Journey (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Plot, adoration, gag-worthy fluff, very cute, very fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:24:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4910389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Believe_in_the_Journey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do not be fooled by the title, this is all fluff, with Arthur being a self-conscious dork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars Are More Than An Imperfection

Arthur lifted his shirt slightly to look at the small red scar on his side that joined the other, older, scars on him. It would eventually turn a faint pink and be a vague memory of the recent surgery. But it was yet another imperfection on him. He had been told a tattoo would cover it up, and he would likely get one later when it did not hurt so badly. He examined his reflection closely to get a better look so he would not have to crane his neck so much. It was definitely visible from afar, no matter what the doctors who had done the appendectomy said. He looked up from his waist to look at Francis who was chattering to him from the bedroom as he changed. 

His words did not penetrate Arthur’s deep thoughts. Arthur was much too focused on the man himself. Those dark blonde curls that stopped just above his shoulders. Those tan shoulders, smooth and wonderful as they met the Frenchman’s back. There were a few scars there, white and beautiful in their own way, only complimenting the man. Francis turned around, and Arthur was able to admire his front. The strong jaw, scruffy and angular and blue eyes Arthur could lose himself in if he wanted to. That mouth, curved into a constant smirk, and even sometimes in a genuine smile that revealed perfect white teeth. And then there was Francis’ torso. It lacked a single ounce fat, all muscle and hipbones. Gorgeous skin untouched by the knives of doctors or their needles. Not like Arthur. 

Arthur dropped the hem of his shirt with a sigh and joined Francis in the bedroom. It took him several moments to realize that Francis was saying his name, as he was still lost in thought. 

“Mon cher?” Francis asked, touching Arthur’s arm lightly to get his attention. 

Arthur looked up at him in slight surprise. “Yeah?”

“What’s wrong, Arthur?” Francis demanded, searching those green eyes he adored that were filled with something he did not like. 

“I’m fine, frog.” Arthur said, rolling his eyes and turning away.

“Is it your side? I can give you more Tylenol if-” Francis started.

“No, really. I’m fine.” Arthur insisted, hoping his voice would not give him away.

Francis leaned forward, looping his arms around Arthur’s waist very carefully. He pulled Arthur onto his lap without brushing the scar and rested his head on the Brit’s shoulder. “What’s troubling you?”

Arthur sighed, trying to find a way to explain without admitting to his feelings. 

“If it’s not your side, then what is it? I don’t like seeing you so upset.” Francis pleaded, pressing a gentle kiss to an area just below Arthur’s jaw. 

Arthur leaned against Franc’s chest, soaking up the warm feeling, and tilted his head slightly to give Francis better access to his neck. But Francis did not continue with the kisses. “You’re just so…..” Arthur started, unable to get the words out.

Francis pulled away instantly, looking horrified. “What did I do, mon cher? Please tell me so I can fix it.” 

Arthur chuckled slightly and shook his head. “You did nothing, frog. Not this time, at any rate. 

“Then what is it?” Francis whined.

“You’re just so… bloody gorgeous... and I’m not.” Arthur mumbled. 

Francis shook his head and leaned forward to press another kiss to Arthur’s neck before moving to face him. “You silly man.” 

“See this is why I didn’t want to tell you, you arrogant tw-” Arthur snapped before getting cut off with a kiss on his lips. 

Francis wrapped Arthur up and pulled him closer, disconnecting their mouths in the process. “You’re beautiful, Arthur.” The words were quiet and sincere as Francis pressed a small kiss to Arthur’s forehead. And then another to his earlobe, and various places on his neck and collarbone. Francis hands slipped under Arthur’s shirt and traced the curves of his slim stomach. Arthur knew his face was bright red and he wanted to protest, but his mouth could not summon the words. 

Francis finally decided it was not enough and tugged off Arthur’s shirt. He pushed Arthur down carefully, pressing light, careful kisses to his ribs and stomach and chest, hands tracing what was revealed of Arthur’s prominent hips.

“I love every inch of you. Every imperfection-” Francis started, looking up into Arthur’s eyes confidently. “and every lock of hair. Even those ridiculous eyebrows. I don’t care if you cover yourself with tattoos, though it would be such a shame, or if you have several surgeries and one hundred scars. And I will not let you hate it. Because you are beautiful. You’ll just have to accept it.” 

The sappiness of Francis in general normally made Arthur roll his eyes, but at that moment all he wanted to do was kiss him. And he did, pulling him forward by the shoulders and smashing their lips together. Francis lost his balance and fell on top of Arthur, who cried out in pain. 

“Désolé!” Francis said worriedly. 

“I’m fine, just be careful, frog.” Arthur huffed. 

The Frenchman, more careful this time, crawled over Arthur and kissing him lovingly, only pulling away long enough to whisper a quiet, “Je t’aime, mon cher.”

“I love you too, frog.” Arthur said, tugging him back down for a deeper kiss. 

Arthur felt a warm tongue press against his lips, requesting entrance. He granted it to Francis, who instantly probed the inside of his mouth and coaxed Arthur’s own tongue to life. Francis was even more touchy-feely than usual. His hands slid across Arthur’s torso, one hand paying special attention to Arthur’s stomach while the other felt up the contours of his back. 

Happiness bubbled up in Arthur’s throat, a feeling he would never admit to Francis causing to others. He wondered how he got so lucky to have such a man so in love with him, but whatever it was, he never wanted to lose it. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Francis asked, drawing away.

“Hm?” Arthur asked, slightly dazed.

“You just stopped.”

“Sorry, I’m okay. I was just thinking.” Arthur replied.

“All good thoughts, I hope.” Francis said, rolling onto his side so he could curl up with his lover without fear of hurting him.

“Very.” Arthur promised, pressing his face into Francis’ chest and breathing in the wonderful smell of wine and expensive French perfume. A smell that never failed to make Arthur slightly dizzy. 

Francis chuckled at him, running a hand through Arthur’s soft blond hair. He started humming a French lullaby, the vibrations of doing so lulling the Englishman to sleep just as much as the melody itself. As soon as his breathing slowed and became noticeably more regular, Francis moved carefully to pull the covers up and snuggled against the warm form of Arthur Kirkland.

“Je t’aime, mon beau Arthur.” Francis mumbled before letting himself fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> mon cher- my dear  
> Désolé- I'm sorry  
> Je t'aime- I love you  
> beau- beautiful


End file.
